


Inextinguishable

by Amusical



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Acculturation, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Are Monsters asexual?, But they aren't sexually attracted to others, Chara had strange and precocious tastes in literature, Does soul sex count as sex?, Gen, Gender is an accepted social construct in Monster Society, Genderfluid Grillby, Legally Blind Doggo, Magical Attraction, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Monster sex: a mystery, Monsters are panromantic, Monsters don't have conventional binary sexes, Monsters feel no need for labels, Monsters have human sex for fun, Multi, Normally, Or kemmer or like I like to call it kemmurr, Other, Parent Grillby (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is a named character though, References not AU, Selectively Mute Grillby, So technically they're asexual, Soul Sex?, Speech Disorder The Dogaressa, The Left Hand of Darkness - Freeform, They have a libido, Though there are exceptions like in humans, Though there is soul attraction, Underfell Grillby, comical depictions of monster heat, idk - Freeform, non-sexual nudity, pun, since monster bodies are made of magic, weird monster biology, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:32:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amusical/pseuds/Amusical
Summary: You're dead. You're also a result of reincarnation. A Monster, an elemental. You're in the world of Undertale, or at least you thought so before the fall of the Royal family. A writer, a parent, a fiery butthole to your enemies.You're name is Grillby, and you're a flaming purple Monster.





	1. a people without hope

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a reincarnated soul as one of the named characters. So here Grillby: Underfell edition. I'm also of the notion that Underfell is the result of the fall of Royal Family, and a lack of direction by any of Monsterkind's leaders. So anyone imagining Asriel and Chara, sorry but they didn't wear any red in their wardrobe. And Frisk.. I haven't even decided whether or not this will even feature them.
> 
> There's also a few references to The Left Hand of Darkness, because I thought it would be a nice flavor to add to Monster society. I also think that they don't have sexual organs or at least not all the time or in the conventional sense we do, because there are Monsters who don't even wear pants. Or clothes in general. Seems like something that only came about recently, and possibly as the result of acquiring human tastes.
> 
> This chapter is only an introduction!
> 
> Also... should I make this Sansby? 
> 
> A side note incest is a taboo in Monster society, and it will not feature in my fic. If you ask me that tidbit in the book kind of felt like the fetishization of m/m relationships.

…….... I used to wonder what living forever would be like. The speculation. The good, the bad of it. It seemed to me to be something simultaneously enviable and misery inducing. Living forever meant the opportunity to see and do everything the world has to offer. It also meant befriending and watching people who weren't as immortal succumb to death.

 

But when you're trapped underneath a mountain and surrounded by a people without hope, immortality is the last thing on your mind. Like many others around you, you kept yourself busy by immersing yourself in this entirely foreign culture. Growing up as an eternal flame was something new at least. And as a Monster of one of the four main elements……….the first few centuries could have been labeled as exhilarating even.     

 

Moving on………. You were a Monster now. A Monster named Grillby, and you were going to make the best of it. You  _ made  _ the best of it. Held in your heart were all the little details that made Grillby the character stay just that a character. It helped that there wasn’t a lot known about the fire elemental. You were you, and nobody could take that away. 

 

Becoming a novelist like you’ve always wanted. Learning to cook using magic. Trying your hand at art. Fulfilled your dream of raising a kid. Even worked as a librarian for a bit.

 

Making sure your glasses were never a pair of square frames. Dressing in clothes that was much more casual than what you remembered, although free reign in that department lead to a lot of fun experimentation. Your body was your’s even more so than your last one was. Here nobody ever said anything to you about your life choices or what made you you. 

 

It was true what they said about Monsters being made out of love, and one such types of love was loving yourself. And despite Monsters’ paradoxical love of Human culture; there was always one thing that never stuck and that was the alienation of certain body types. It just didn’t make sense to a people where being bipedal wasn’t even assured.    

 

In a way, being a Monster was the best thing to have ever happen to you.

 

Eventually………. Eventually you celebrated the birth of the Royal family’s prince, Asriel, by opening up a bar in 200x. It was fitting for a Monster named Grillby to open up such a tavern in a town named so aptly named as Snowdin, because it was foretold in a dream of another life. And sure you've always made an effort to separate yourself from fiction, but it just sort of appealed to you. Years pass, and living in the snowy town; you find it was the right choice. A calling. Silent, undisturbed - it didn’t matter how you wanted to run your establishment, since you were the boss anyway.

 

It was the year 201x and it was the year a child fell, in both senses of the word. As quick as they’d come and lit a fire in the souls of the entire Underground; the adopted child of an entire race went out like a small flame. And in the same night, so did the heir apparent of the Kingdom of Monsters. Losing the only two sources of hope the people had in centuries, despair laid waste to the land. The young, the old, those closest to the Royal Family - in only a day many fell. Even those that didn't immediately fall, for those who remembered, were liable  to succumb years later.  

 

Angered by the death of his son, and filled with grief; King Asgore declared war on Humans. King Fluffybuns in his rage mandated that every Human to fall next would meet his wrath; their souls used to break the barrier and turn him into a god.

 

Hearing this the Queen left for exile, never to be heard from again. 

 

The King became a verifiable recluse; no longer did he comfort the hearts of the weak. No longer did he visit schools, and spoke of kindness. Instead he lead them in silence. A silence that drove many into madness, and others to anarchy. 

 

The Queen withheld her presence from Court, withdrew her hand in a time of need. In a self-righteous bid to push others away from her child’s final resting spot, fear kept many a Monster from wandering too close. All who escaped the Ruin doors kept silence in dread, but still rumor reached the rest of the Underground. Of the mad Monster dwelling in the Ruins, but never speaking of her by name.     

 

Asgore became a name spoken in vain, their future god. Toriel became a thrice uttered curse, the name of a long forgotten Queen. Without the hands that once guided them, but tainted still by their SOULs; Monsterkind fell just like their long lost children. 

 

And now in the year 2x1x you’ve come to realise with all of the spikes and chains and fashion choices of those around, the world you’ve found yourself in is actually Underfell. And you thought you were being clever with your colorful button-up shirts, and librarian-esque glasses. Instead as the world changes, as the trends in life and clothes change but yours; the color of your fire changes to match your new worldview. 

 

Can’t help but wonder if you’re this way because it was inevitable or did the world change because of the effort you put into it to change?


	2. this is how you persevere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the Snowdin Canine Unit!  
> A bit of world building.  
> Fluff? Both literal and metaphorical.

Crunch, crunch went the light footsteps of a lone Monster in the woods. No other sound could be heard, not even a whisper of their rustling clothes. Without words the Monster approaches another; tall and skinny (but fluffy) this was a Dog Monster with cream colored fur.

 

As you approach a peculiar sound reaches your ears. With a dog Monster you’d think the forest would be an echo of panting and yips, and it is, but edging closer you’re also met with the sound of a motor revving.

 

This Monster knows you, and is eager to be pet.

 

Even as it’s head rises to meet your hand, seeking affection, wary eyes meet your own (eye proximity).

 

The area around you may be a cacophony of sound, but you are unperturbed. There is no need for words between you, only pets. The small barks it emits cannot be translated for they are not words in its native tongue, but excited exclamation. But still even as you pet the good dog, no ulterior motives at hand, you cannot help but notice the other Monster’s paw on the pommel of it’s dagger.

 

The world the both of you live in is sculpted in pain and hurt and dust.

 

Yet you are happy to give small amounts of happiness to others, and _this is how you persevere_.

 

Without a word you leave them, and if they look disappointed to see you leave, you’re no longer there to see it.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-

 

In the Kingdom of Monsters a lot of things are made out to be jokes, and this doesn’t change even when a lot of other things did. Including the popular trend to name dog Monsters in badly translated Dogrish. Ever since long ago when a family of dog Monsters was christened by a young human with a sweater of cream and green.

 

It’s popular………. Naming someone after something from human culture like say a constellation, even if it's unlikely they’ll ever see their name sake. One can only wish after glittering stone so long before they seek out their own stars.

 

Greater Dog is a tough and tumble sort of Monster, and this can be seen in the way he approaches you. Slobber flying onto you, causing steam to hiss where it lands, but you don’t wince. Not a flame out of place, a show of trust. Careful, calculated, and nothing like the Monster in front of you. But that doesn’t matter.

 

The only thing that matters in that moment is the stick in your hand, and the fact that in your hands it's not a weapon. Even as you pull your arm back, and Greater Dog, ears alert, turns his back on you. Says without words that with you, trust is not something misplaced.  

 

-_-_-_-_-_-

 

“What’s that smell?” (I smell a fire!)

 

Something crashes into your chest, or rather somebody. “Elemental-“ It takes everything in you not to let out a small oof, although your glasses are askew. (Grillby.) Comes a voice from behind, husky as it is cutthroat.

 

“You’re in my way!!” Righting your glasses, hands from behind you snake around, and grab ahold of their hubby. (Between me and my hubby!)

 

“.....................between……………...That’s…………….where the two of you put me.”

 

“Aww, Grillby,” upon his head your hand rests. (Yeah, listen to my hubby.)

 

You were weak towards puppy dog eyes, especially Dogamy’s.

 

Dogamy whines at the look you give him. “Why don’t you stay a little longer!?” (And stay!)

 

“....................ok.” You lay your chin on top of your hand, and close your eyes. You can hear the Dogaressa huff, but she too turns her head and rests it between your shoulder blades.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-

 

At the base of one of the artificial coniferous trees deep in Snowdin forest is a small pile of stones, neatly stacked. A lone figure crouches there, and picks up a shot glass left for just this purpose, they take out the flask of drinking alcohol from inside an inner pocket, and pour a shot. Bringing it up to your lips, instead of taking a sip, you blow gently at the surface lighting it like a candle. You set it aside at its previous spot, and pull something else out of the many pockets lining the inside of your coat.

 

Not waiting for it to burn, you crush the incense in your hands instantly incinerating it. Leaning back on your heels, you stare up at the ceiling obscured by clouds full of snow.

 

Smells like a funeral.

 

“Who’s there?”

 

Your “eyes” blink open, and you can feel the lips of your smile curling and reforming. Stepping out from behind the trees, you greet your stationary friend.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-

 

Done with your business in the woods, and feeling impulsive you decide to take a walk in the forest. Assured that no one will disturb you in the forest, no one but the teens that are sure to avoid you anyway, so you take your time. You’re further in than you usually go, and it probably took longer because you didn’t take the path, but it’s fine. Today the bar isn’t going to open even after the artificial lights darken.

 

Schedules and businesses are supposed to go on as usual, but Grillby’s is a privately owned business, so.

 

Remembering that you have plans to have dinner at the home of the Dogi. Wondering if the rest of the Snowdin Canine Unit will be there, maybe you should stop by the store on the way there. Even if the Dogi didn’t send out a formal invitation to the rest of the squad they’ll probably still be there anyway, and then there’s breakfast tomorrow…  

 

Should’ve kept Grillby’s opened, maybe.

 

About to turn around to go back into town you stop as you hear something out of place. In all of your pointless wandering in an empty forest, a sound breaks the peace. Tilting your head towards where you think you heard it, and straining your, ah, sides of your head-

 

There! You heard it again. This time a little louder, and without realizing, you’ve come to a bush where the knocks are emanating from. Somebody knocking on stone is followed by a voice softly saying it out loud. “Knock, knock.”

 

You’re almost surprised when an equally quiet voice answers. “Who’s there?” Almost. You’re almost surprised. Both of the voices you recognize.

 

“Dismay.” The first voice is Sans. The second...

 

“Dismay who?” It’s the voice of the Queen. The Queen’s who you haven’t heard since… Her voice sounds rough, like someone who hasn’t spoken in forever. Or decades, maybe even centuries.

 

“Dismay be a bad joke, but I think it’s funny!” And it is a bad joke, but still she laughs.

 

Her laugh, unlike her voice, sounds the same. It still sounds like her. As unmajestic as they come, her guffaws. It matches her as much as the King’s stifled chuckles matches His Majesty, as in not at all…  

 

Laughter from Sans isn’t quite as loud as the former Queen, but you can still hear it, loud and clear. And you can’t stop from wondering if he knows that it’s the former Queen he’s telling knock knock jokes to, out here in the middle of the woods. You know for fact that Sans doesn’t have a high opinion of the former Her Majesty the Queen, who fled into the night. Neither of the skeleton brothers do.

 

You stay a bit longer, listening to the two of them exchange bad jokes back and forth. But when it’s made abundantly clear that the two of them aren’t stopping anytime soon, you slowly step back into the forest.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

Doggo, you find, is taking a smoke break a bit away from his sentry station, looking bored. He sees you meandering his way, and puts out his medicinal dog treat. Without it he’s a nervous ball of dog hair, so it would be rare to not see him smoking or eating something. Although he does you the courtesy of putting it out whenever he sees you, knowing that you hate the smell.

 

Being the youngest Monster in the Snowdin Canine unit, and there based on a recommendation - he’s the Dogaressa’s younger cousin - he’s quite the dedicated guardsman. That’s the reason why he’s stationed so close to the ruins, he’s quite enthusiastic about being a sentry despite his outward and every day demeanor. Or at least that’s what you’d heard from the Dogi, personally you don’t know him all that well.

 

You nod at him in greeting, and when he makes to speak, you stop in front of him. “You cooking at Aunty’s place tonight?”

 

Nodding in agreement, you receive one in return. Guess you really do need to drop into town, and pick something up from the store. That doesn’t stop you from taking your time leisurely getting there though, stretching and popping your back nicely. Facing upwards, you notice the sky is as grey as ever.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

Waking up the next day is as disorienting as usual, and though you didn’t drink last night, going to bed at @$$ o’clock in the morning isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Especially at your age. And where are your shoes? You swear if L.D stole your shoes for the sake of art again…

 

Walking past the master bedroom, you peek your head in to check up on Dogamy. Careful not to disturb him you went back to searching for Lesser Dog, closing the door with a barely audible click.

 

You found L.D, but not your shoes. Taking a moment to watch them have one of those doggy dreams where they’re run in their sleep, but no shoes in sight. Not even the left one.

 

It’s not until you’ve walked past a couple of times before realising that the shoes are being kept warm for you by Greater Dog. How does he even sleep in that armor? Not impressed in the least, you leave it, since there is no way to move G.D without him rolling over on you. You’ll get them on the way out.   

 

In the kitchen there’s the Dogaressa in a bathrobe at the table nursing a black cup of coffee. But you move past her, she’s not much company in the morning. Heading straight for the fridge you get out the ingredients for breakfast, and close the door, jostling Doggo fast asleep on top of the fridge. The clock on the opposite wall tells you it’s an hour before noon.

 

“Wake up!” Setting aside a plate for Dogamy, he’ll get up to eat it later. “Whoever doesn’t get their butts up here isn’t getting any!” Your yelling is then followed by house shaking thumps, irritating loud noises, miscellaneous other sounds that are not normally associated with dogs and some that are.

 

And then Doggo rolls off the fridge.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry.  
> Except for Sans' bad joke. Apologies.


	3. Black Market Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby gets a visit from an old flame(?). I mean friend, old friend.

Busy taking stock of the various alcoholic beverages lining your shelves, at first, you didn’t notice anyone come in. Not even when the lights inside of Grillby’s became sharper, and the shadows longer. It wasn’t until the interloper rapped the wooden walls by the door that you looked up, startled.

 

The static of shocked fire, an exclamation. 

 

“Yes, me.” You were greeted with an easy going, white-hot grin.

 

“Look, Grills, I know I’m early,” It wasn’t a surprise for him to be faced with your disapproving frown. He practically grew up on them. “But you know patience isn’t exactly a virtue of mine.”  

 

“So here I am.” Your business with the surprise visitor was not something you wanted known. What if someone in town sees? You try to get this point across.

 

“Hey, hey. Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” The faux sulky pout on the other Elemental’s face quickly disappears only to be replaced by a knowing twinkle.

 

“Aww, come on. I got contraband,” he rattled the box of chocolates.

 

Instantaneously you immaterialize taking only seconds to reappear behind your long time friend and co-conspirator Curry, box now in hand. Behind your back a fang peeks out from one of Curry’s signature toothy smiles. Only after putting the goods away into your inventory do you turn around and face the other, once again fully composed. 

 

Walking back behind the bar, Curry spins on the spot tracking your progress, and you continue to do inventory. It takes you but a moment more before being done, the both of you quiet the entire process. Once your full attention is back on your friend, does Curry becomes animated and take action.

 

White space on fluid black, the other’s wispy face would be indecipherable if you hadn’t practically grown up with the shadow man in front of you. Something had him mildly peeved. Throwing up his hands the dark elemental speaks, his voice clearly exasperated. 

 

“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had even if I told you. Actually it’s the reason why I’m here so early.” You give him the look, the one expertly crafted from years of dealing with Curry’s special brand of bull. “Okay, really. It does sound a bit silly.”

“Ok, ok. I must admit I might have been lax lately, but it’s not like that!” Plopping down on a stool in front of the bar, sitting down didn’t stop Curry from being overly excitable. His languid smile turns quite serious then. “The Captain’s really been cracking down. Smugglings been real difficult since she’s been instated. As a result the meeting place has been compromised, so I came to you before you could have fallen to their dastardly clutches.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know you could’ve handled it without getting caught. But this way,” Curry’s hands waved like he was trying to bat at an invisible fly. “You don’t have to deal with any annoying royal guards, and I get to visit my favorite wayward Fire Elemental.” 

 

“Win, win for everybody involved,” he shrugged. “Except for the ones in the Guard who’re after me, but ey~. You can’t please everybody. I’d dust if I tried. Or possibly live out the rest of my days being tortured inside the dungeons under the royal castle.” 

 

“Aa? Is that concern I hear coming from you, Grills? Careful or else all those chocolates’ll melt from that concern just oozing off’a ya. Yeah?” He crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them.

 

“No?” Curry crossed his legs. “I mean no, of course not.” The man made of shadows taps the fingers of his right hand on the countertop of your bar. “Haha. Ya got me there. I’ll bite.” 

 

“What’ve you been up to?” Leaning over the counter, Curry waggles his eyebrows. Suggestively. “Anybody catch your metaphorical eye?”

 

“Mmn. I know, Grills,” Curry stretched minutely, and let it go. “‘M laying off it now.” 

 

“Seriously though, what’s going on around town? Any interesting tidbits?” Curry flexed his hand. “You know me, unrepentant gossip that I am, I live off’a the stuff.” 

 

+-+-+-+-+-+

 

“No! I don’t believe it. There’s no way Alphys is gonna let go of her decade old crush on ol’ King Fluffybuns. Not even for a fresh new face like the Captain’s. I just don’t.” Curry shook his head like a dog. Comparable even to one of the Unit.

 

“And what do you know? It’s not like you hang out with Alphys enough to find this out!”  

 

“What? The UnderNet? Doesn’t sound very reliable to me. Not like good old fashioned ear to the ground work. No siree, that’s not me.”

 

“How did Undyne find out about where we were going to meet?”

 

“What? Alphys an informant? That doesn’t seem like her to me,” he tapped what sounded like one of Napstablook’s online originals released under a pseudonym. “Even when she went above board Alphys still lied and cheated her way into the position of royal scientist. I have way too much blackmail on her.”

 

“Covering up her stint with the Human Club with that Ghost is one thing, but she knows I rely on her too much for any of that silly betrayal stuff. She keeps on supplying me, I keep mum. Also I like to think we know each other better than that.”

 

“Anyway even if you were right about Alphys wanting to impress the head of the royal guard, she wouldn’t want her sentiments about humans getting out again. Mainly since Undyne the head of the royal guard hates humans,” a beat. “Everyone knows that.”

 

“What? … Anime?” The whites of his almond shaped whites widen. “She thinks it’s what now?!?”

 

“To think Undyne the Undying is that gullible. Or maybe she just sees what she wants to see. Particularly if it’s as mutual as you make it out to be.”   

 

“How good are your sources?” A pause. “True,” a nod. “There’s that too. Undyne has been in and around Snowdin more often these days.”  

 

“Okay, fine. That does sound plausible…” Something more upbeat beat against the wooden surface, Mettaton’s fair. “Also if someone ordered her to, she’d have to do it.” 

 

“Can’t risk her coming under suspicion either. Prime position to get at certain goods…” 

 

Curry then proceeded to slam both of his palms flat against the bar. “Furthermore, curse Alphys and her voyeuristic tendencies!” How dramatic. If you had eyes they’d be rolling.    

 

+-+-+-+-+-+

 

“Great,” a single hand clap. “Now we can get down to business.”

 

The dark elemental rounded the bar, and set down a medium sized crate, recently pulled from inside his own inventory. Popping a lid with a similarly begotten crowbar the contents were revealed to be human novelties landing on the more regulated spectrum of the law. 

 

Some of the stuff wasn’t exactly prohibited per se, rare finds all the same, however. Not everything there was like that though. A bit of it would definitely land him with quite the hefty fines. Or he could even find himself rotting in jail for an indeterminate amount of time since instances like this were often judged case by case. Primarily for all of the evidence of being a smuggler that could be found on him. His record also wasn’t the cleanest either.

 

“Most of this is powered by electricity, so simply by plugging it into the wall will do. The stuff here, here, and here have been modified by yours truly to run on personal magic.” A various variety of knick knacks were held up for view.

 

“On top of that there’s the market for those with private predilections and proclivities. Best left to the imagination that.” Less said the better.

 

“And last but not least - magical tools that aren’t above the board.”

 

“Now here we have a few beautiful, beautiful inventions by this kid I found in New Home.” Curry held up a rounded device made of hard plastics, and with an indistinct shape much like a sci-fi raygun. I think it can store and shoot a variety of bullets not your own. Alphys can do something similar if not the same, but I do like to encourage the youth.”     

 

Time to switch out the bullet spitter for something with a little more oomph.

 

“I wantcha to meet my little friend the boomstick. It’s something Alphys has been cooking up. Gave me a bunch of excuses to keep it from circulation,” an exaggerated wave of hands. “Something about it not being a lone project.” 

 

“Oh, don’t you worry. I asked her about it and everything.” Curry hummed.

 

“The co-inventor technically never patented it, and even if there was.” A shoulder shrug. “It’s not like this ain’t an illegal smuggling ring.” 

 

Hands up, Curry goes for plactating. “Woah, woah. Stop your nagging, Grills, don’t I know it.” He scratched his head. “This thing’s not dangerous. Makes a big boom is all. Normally doesn’t even shave off any hp. In the right hands it might take some decimals at the most.” 

 

“‘S apparently real flashy too, like a stun grenade. People ask for a distraction, I provide one for ‘em. It’ll impress the grunts too, and I can keep tabs on who orders what. Still gonna go for a pretty penny though.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for Curry comes from the mascot of Mr. Curry, a restaurant. Someone on tumblr drew something up because it reminded them of Grillby. Although mine is slightly different. For one he's not a flame elemental, for two his face is a white hot color not yellow.


	4. Black Market Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans' opinion on Curry.

It was just another day for Sans who was taking his time strolling casually down the streets of Snowdin when something caught his attention. There was a light coming from the window of Grillby’s, which wasn’t too unusual even at this early hour the bartender often likes to start his day.

 

In some places in the Underground shoving your nose where it didn’t belong sure was a quick way to lose it, but Sans felt confident enough in his place in the town that he shouldn’t be in any danger. Also he didn’t have a nose to lose in the first place.

 

By angling himself just so against the glass, so it wouldn’t be too obvious that he was spying on the place. To the casual observer it would simply look like he was just resting. It wasn’t exactly a nation wide secret that his stamina was terrible, and he normally took naps in strange and unusual places anyway. His stamina wasn’t quite as bad as he liked to make it out to be, but nobody needed to know that.

 

After some careful finagling it wasn’t hard to make out what was happening right inside. The proprietor of Grillby’s had something in his hands, inspecting it this way and that way. It looked to be something shoddily cobbled together, but he wasn’t too sure what it was. It seemed to be a customized magic tool of some sort. Possibly a weapon?

 

Even if Grillby did have a license to carry Sans doubted it was for whatever that was. It couldn’t have possibly pass any of the safety regulations from up top. Setting down the magic tool/maybe weapon, the purple Monster picked up something else from the bar.

 

It was a lot more sleek and polished, and had a distinct mechanical appearance to it. The make also looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite tell from where (or from who). Then Grillby fiddled with something on it’s side, ultimately releasing a catch, so Sans caught a glimpse from another angle. Was that-

 

Was that a *boomstick*!?

 

When had Alphys finished that little project of theirs!? It’s been years since he’s worked on it sure, but he could recognise that design anywhere. He didn’t mind the fact that she had finished it (without him), but it would have been nice if she’d told him about it.

 

As it was… It had the air of one of Alphys’ much more cleaned up machines, except… Except, Sans realized, it most likely did not hold her magic signature anywhere on it. Whether she was in on this supposed weapon smuggling ring or not; it only made sense if her signature was filed down into non-existence.

 

Although he bet even if it were reconfigured into a new interface he’d still be able to recognize it. Heh.

 

If Sans hadn’t seen it with his own sockets he wouldn’t have believed it though. Would never have pegged Grillby to be the smugglin’ type. Whatever, it wasn’t like he was gonna do anything in particular about it. Regardless before he could turn and leave, a voice he doesn’t recognize speaks up. Unfortunately, it was enough to startle him, making him jump a little.  

 

“Grillby’s isn’t accepting customers right now,” uttered a black fire elemental.

 

He was a stranger wearing a snappy black suit, formally dressed, but not very formal in attitude. His arms were crossed but leaning in such a way on Grillby’s open front door that it could be mistaken that he owned the place. Pulling on the corner of his socket, Sans stuck his tongue out at the guy. Who then had the audacity to shoo Sans like he was some kinda pest. The smug bastard was even smirking at him too!

 

Grumbling under his breath, the bastard was lucky Sans wasn’t looking for a fight. Or had somewhere to be right that moment. Hopefully Papyrus wouldn’t screech too loudly about him being late. Didn’t mean Sans didn’t flip him the bird over his shoulder in parting. Had to stay classy somehow.  

 

+-+-+-+-+-+

 

Later when Sans had his lunch break the unidentified Monster was still hanging around Grillby’s. Which was annoying, but didn’t stop him from enjoying some _hot_ food. He just had to turn the other cheek is all, and it was like he wasn’t even there.

 

Sliding into his seat Sans nodded a greeting to the _hottie_ (hehheh) behind the bar before ordering his usual. Nothing like a good burg and some mustard to lift a guy’s moods. Eventually the annoying black (weird but hey Grillby was purple) flame Monster stopped hovering by Grillby’s shoulder, and went to talk with some of the other patrons.

 

Sans took another drink of his stolen bottle of mustard before chatting up the resident _hot_ - _head_. “hey. who’s that?” Sans tilted his in a general direction behind him. “an _old_ _flame_  maybe?”

 

There’s a second where a contemplative look crosses Grillby’s face, probably enjoying Sans’ masterful punnery, although the answer's a quick shake no. The purple monster doesn’t speak much, but if Sans kept them as yes or no questions than he’s good for a response.

 

Several minutes pass by a companionable silence between the two of them. Grillby’s usually cool as a cucumber, so it's nice having a conversation with him even if it’s mostly one sided. Normally when someone annoys the owner of Grillby’s they get the boot, and since he’s not gone yet Sans likes to think it’s mutual.

 

“Hey, hey, Grillby, i’ve got a good one.” Once Grillby’s attention was on Sans again, he let it rip. “What do you say about a chef who couldn’t cook?" Sans gave Grillby one of his patented lazy grins. "A chef that had _mushroom_ for improvement. hehhehheh.”

 

“aww... c’mon. that one certainly tickled my funny bone. oh, i know…”

 

“it’s a good thing i wore gloves today… Otherwise, you’d be too _hot_ to handle.” Sans made sure to add in some comically serious bedroom ‘eyes’ in there. Topped it off with the smarmiest smile he could muster, too. Nothing’ll get a laugh outta Grillby like making ridiculous faces. It even works this time too. Grillby’s turning his head like he had an actual mouth to hide.

 

“yer laughin’ at me aren't cha?” Sans fiddles with the cap on his mustard bottle. “ya cheeky bastard. betcha think yer real _hot_ _stuff_ too.” And then Sans lifts a hand up in a what can you do kinda way. “What canna guy do around here not to get a _searing_ review?”

 

“hehheh. yeah. I _mustard_ say though… i love the ambiance of the place. really _warms_ me to the _bone_. hehhehh-”

 

“Hey, don’t try to whack me with that. already have enough on _my_ _plate_ as is.”

 

“what?” Sans tried to _radiate_ a picture of innocence. “no, i did not set you up for that joke.” Pause for dramatic effect. “Ya just have a _short_ _fuse_.”

 

“heh, yeah. walked right into that one. speaking of _short_ _fuses_ though, i gotta _skele_ -daddle before Papyrus comes a- _wailin_ ’ on me. so say _goodbye_ pumpkin _pie_.”

 

And lickety-split Sans literally disappears out the door. Once he’s gone though Curry walks up to Grillby and asks. “So _pumpkin_ _pie_ … You two already on a nickname basis?”

 

Grillby smashes a plate on his face. Sadly Curry’s face breaks the plate.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Sans mistakes Curry for another Fire Elemental. 
> 
> Also a boomstick is a sawed off shotgun in real life, but in story Sans was the one to make up the name. Whether he knows this human tidbit is up to your discretion. Or if he made up a real bad pun name that rivals the King's naming schemes...


End file.
